Under the Mistletoe
by vanityfair
Summary: Hermione wants to get Prof. Snape a Christmas present but what gift says “thanks for everything you do, you mean, sarcastic twit”? COMPLETE
1. A Christmas present

A/N: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

This story is inspired by Shakespeare's _Much Ado About Nothing_—another tale where a misunderstanding brings together two people who thought they despised each other. Please review as I love receiving encouragement and constructive criticism.

**Chapter One—A Christmas Present**

Hermione loved Christmas, but she hated buying Christmas gifts. Some people were easy; for Ron and Harry anything related to Quidditch or chocolate would suffice and Ginny was thrilled with any sort of sparkling bauble or scented lotion easily found in Diagon Alley. But what did you get a man that needed nothing and liked little? What did you get a man like Severus Snape?

Under normal circumstances she would never be expected to buy the Potions Master a Christmas present, but having just started an apprenticeship with him in September, she felt the gesture was warranted. Although, he would probably construe it as a way of ingratiating herself with him. Which was partly true, Hermione admitted, but she also thought he might not get too many Christmas presents and she wanted him to know she appreciated him, even if he irritated her beyond reason. So what gift said "thanks for everything you do, you mean, sarcastic twit"?

She was rifling through the papers on her desk, looking for a clean sheet of paper she could use to write a list of ideas, when she found it—an envelope from her parents. They had sent her a gift certificate for two dinners at a very expensive wizard restaurant for her birthday but she hadn't had time to use it.

'Perfect,' she thought, although she did feel a little guilty about re-gifting. With a few waves of her wand, her name was replaced with Snape's and as an extra flourish she even added a Slytherin green bow to the outside of the envelope. Satisfied that her Christmas shopping was finished, she turned her attention back to the Potions text Snape had assigned for their next meeting.

A week later she attended the second annual Christmas party at Grimmauld Place. All the Order members who had survived the war had gathered to celebrate and exchange gifts. Mingling in the small crowd, Hermione found herself in a corner of the kitchen with Ron, Harry, Fred and George.

"So how is Snape treating you?" Harry asked her suspiciously. He and Ron had been disappointed when Hermione had told them she wouldn't be joining them in Auror training. After five years of battling Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, she had had enough of fighting dark wizards thank you very much.

"You know you don't have to work with him," Ron reminded her for the hundredth time, "they would still take you at the Ministry for sure." She forced a smile and tried to think of a response that would convince the two them that she was sure of her decision to become Snape's apprentice once and for all. But words failed her; she knew a lost cause when she saw one.

"We offered her a job at our shop," Fred told Harry and Ron.

"Yeah, lots of potions work there," George added, "And we could really use someone like you in research and development."

"The idea of research sounds great but I'm afraid I would go crazy with paranoia, wondering if I was going to suddenly sprout a second nose or turn into a canary every time I took a sip of my coffee or ate my lunch," she explained.

"Yes, a sense of adventure is required to work at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes." She smiled and reminded herself to keep an eye on her drink at all times throughout the party. Just then Professor Snape entered the room. Unlike in the classroom, where he made an impressive entrance, robes billowing behind him, door slamming shut without him touching it, here he slunk in, obviously hoping not to be noticed.

"If you'll excuse me," Hermione said, leaving the group in the corner and making her way towards him.

"Professor Snape I didn't expect you to be here," she said, smiling at him. Luckily, she had his gift in the pocket of her robes and she figured it would be easier to give it to him here. She could hand it to him, wish him a Happy Christmas and then be on her way with none of the awkwardness giving the gift in private may have caused.

"I was invited wasn't I?" he sneered down at her.

"Certainly, I didn't mean to imply that you weren't," she said quickly. Gods, the man was difficult. It was Christmas; couldn't he at least try and be cheerful?

"Did you want something Miss Granger?" he asked snidely.

"Ummm, yes." He looked at her pointedly, waiting. "I just wanted to give you your Christmas present." She shoved the envelope into his hands.

"Merry Christmas!" she said in a forced cheery voice. He stared down at the gift in his hands and she took the opportunity to retreat—far away.

&&&&&

Severus wasn't sure why he had decided to attend this party. He supposed it was in an effort to avoid a speech from Albus about the importance of socializing. At least here he could nurse a drink or two in a dark corner, scowling dangerously at anyone foolish enough to approach him. He resolved to leave when people had had enough eggnog for that particular tactic to stop working. Drunken twits telling them how they really felt about him or worse yet insisting that he join them in a round of carols was not his idea of Christmas cheer.

But before he had been there five minutes he was approached by none other than Hermione Granger. Didn't he see enough of her during the week? Must she subject him to her presence here as well? His trademark scowl had not been enough to scare her away, a drawback of her being his apprentice, he supposed. He had been too surprised at her shoving something into his hands for him to snap or insult her as he had been planning on doing.

"What's that Severus?" Albus asked coming up alongside of him.

"A gift…from Hermione," he said perplexed.

"Well open it up my dear boy," the old man prompted, chucking him on the shoulder. Severus scowled but Albus just smiled back at him, his eyes twinkling. That made two people who had resisted his death stare. Perhaps he was getting soft?

'No,' he thought, 'Albus never has been one to take a hint, and Granger...' His thoughts were interrupted by Dumbledore snatching the envelope from his hands and opening it.

"Well, well, well," the older man clucked.

"What is it?" he snapped, grabbing for the envelope.

"It seems young Miss Granger harbors feelings for you."

"That's preposterous," he said, looking at the contents of the envelope. It contained a gift certificate—"Dinner for two at Merlin's." That was a nice restaurant, quite expensive if he remembered correctly.

"No it's not. Obviously she gave you this hoping that you would invite her along."

"Of all the devious, low…"

"Slytherin things to do," Albus finished for him. Severus considered that for a moment. It did seem something worthy of his house.

"She probably assumes that I wouldn't have anyone else to ask," he said bitterly.

"Which is partly true, although I do love Merlin's myself," Albus said, earning himself another death stare. "Or she enjoys your company and wants to spend more time with you outside of class."

Severus stared at the paper in his hands. She had obviously put some thought into this gift. He would need to develop a strategy before proceeding.

'Gods, does she expect me to buy her a gift,' he thought suddenly. Maybe if he invited her to join him for dinner he would be exempt from buying her a Christmas gift. At least he was getting a decent meal out of this. He decided to contemplate the matter later. It seemed the eggnog was working quickly this year, no doubt helped along by the Weasley twins, and he wanted to make a swift exit.


	2. An Invitation

A/N: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Chapter Two—An Invitation**

Hermione's head still ached two days after the Christmas party. Whatever Fred and George had added to the eggnog had been strong. She didn't remember much past giving Professor Snape his Christmas present, although Harry assured her that she had led them all in a rousing round of 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.' She tried not to think about it; it hurt too much to think.

Dragging herself to Snape's office, she tried desperately to remember what she had read the previous week without much success. She was never going to another party with the Weasley twins again. Never!

She knocked on Snape's door, grimacing at the sound. He answered, ushering her in. She rummaged through her bag, getting out paper and quill, and started taking notes as he lectured. Once again she cursed the Weasley twins. He was talking about human to animal transformations using potions—the different potions used and their properties as well as comparing the effects of potions versus transfiguration. It was a subject in which she had a great interest, but she was too tired and sick to ask any questions.

When it came time for them to discuss what she had read, she said very little. She prayed he would sense that she was ill and let her go, but it seemed he was oblivious and Hermione was not the type of student who asked to go early.

"That's all," he said finally, dismissing her. Gathering up her books and quills, she was surprised to hear him address her again.

"I wanted to thank you for your Christmas gift Miss Granger," he stammered. He obviously was not accustomed to thanking people.

"You're welcome," she said meekly, feeling uncomfortable and wanting to leave.

"Since it's a dinner for two, I was…I was wondering if you would join me?"

Was he asking her to dinner?

Did people become delirious with hangovers? Hermione didn't know; she never had been one to overindulge in alcohol but she felt sure that hearing things did not come with it. Perhaps she was coming down with the flu. She realized he was waiting for some sort of response.

"Umm, yes that would be nice," she heard herself saying, too sick to think of a plausible excuse. She heard him mention something about next Thursday before she finally escaped his office, making her way back to bed. Damn those Weasley twins—now she not only had a headache but a date with Snape as well.

&&&&

Severus had contemplated Hermione Granger's gift the last two days. At first he was repulsed by the idea of having dinner with her. He saw her enough during the week in their tutorial sessions. She drove him crazy with her constant questions, interrupting the carefully prepared lectures he had written and inevitably leading them off-topic.

But as he began to think on it, the more the idea appealed to him. It had been years since he had had dinner with a woman. Being a spy had left him little time for wining and dining women. And then of course there was the slight problem of both his personality and looks which made getting dates near impossible.

Ok, impossible, he admitted to himself.

Except somehow Miss Granger had overcome both and the formidable age difference; he found himself slightly flattered.

He decided he would take Albus' advice and ask her to dinner. If conversation faltered they could discuss Potions and if she started to irritate him he could always hit her with a silencing charm. It was less pathetic than going alone at any rate and he decided to ask her at their next meeting.

She arrived early as usual but she seemed quiet. Not that they engaged in anything as trivial as small talk, but she hadn't asked a single question. He found himself somewhat disappointed. He had rather thought she would be interested in his interdisciplinary comparison but apparently she was not. Oh well, so much the better. Most of Transfiguration was a waste of time in his mind anyway—foolish wand waving. When did you ever need to turn a hedgehog into a pincushion or a turtle into a teacup?

Since he wasn't concentrating on keeping himself from strangling her, he found himself noticing her in other ways. When had she tamed her unruly hair? Was her skin always so pale, her cheeks so rosy?

He had decided to ask her for next Thursday. They didn't have a tutorial on Friday and she rarely came to the lab over the weekend so that gave him three full days to recover from spending extra time with her, and time for her to heal from any hexes he might be forced to throw at her during the course of the meal…in defense of his sanity naturally. There was one moment of suspense when he wasn't sure whether she would accept or decline his invitation.

'Just like a woman to play games,' he thought, but he found himself relieved and a little excited when she had agreed. But then sheer panic set in as he realized what he had gotten himself into. He had a date and not just with anyone but with the insufferable Hermione Granger.


	3. Advice

A/N: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Chapter Three—Advice **

It had been some time since Severus had been on a proper date with a woman, although he wasn't sure he classified dinner with Hermione a date or even proper for that matter; she was his apprentice and student after all. But he had issued the invitation and he couldn't take it back now, so he turned to Minerva for advice.

"You have a date?" she asked him surprised after he told her his dilemma. He found himself somewhat insulted at her tone. Was it so unbelievable that he, Severus Snape, had been able to convince a woman to spend time with him?

"Yes," he snapped, "and I need some advice."

"With who?"

"That's none of your business you old busybody." He began to wonder if this was such a good idea. Talking to Minerva could be so tiring at times.

"Every woman is different, Severus. If you want my help I'll need to know who it is you're romancing," she said with the same stern voice she used with her first-years.

"Hememm Graaaaaerr," he mumbled.

"Who?"

"Hermione Granger," he snapped. There he said it, what more could the old hag want. He waited for the inevitable shrieks of disbelief and horror.

"Really?" she asked quite calmly Severus thought considering what she had just heard.

"Yes," he said, explaining how she had bought him the gift certificate and that he thought it polite to invite her along.

"I see," she said, "Did you get her anything?"

"No. Am I supposed to? I am taking her to dinner aren't I?" he asked snidely.

"On her dime," Minerva retorted. "No, Severus, you need to get her something else as a Christmas gift. For any other woman I would suggest perfume or chocolates but I think Miss Granger would prefer a book." He considered this for a moment. Yes, he could handle a book. He certainly wasn't going to any mamby-pamby perfume shop for a Christmas present.

"Thank you," he grunted. She had been helpful even if she was overbearing.

"You're welcome and good luck." He certainly hoped luck was with him, he was going to need it.

Hermione slowly regained her strength as the week progressed but her confusion as to what had happened earlier in the week only increased. She couldn't be sure that it had even happened. It seemed like a bad dream and Professor Snape certainly hadn't treated her any differently since that day. Well that wasn't exactly true. Sometimes she caught him looking at her in an odd fashion, as though she were some sort of freak at one of those traveling carnivals—with a look of horrified fascination. It wasn't much better than how he normally looked at her, as though someone had shoved something foul smelling under his nose.

She decided she needed some advice and so she timidly approached Professor McGonagall. She was surprised to find that the older woman knew about her having dinner Snape.

"You know?" she asked, her face turning red. My gods was he telling everyone that she had accepted an invitation to dinner with him? Whatever he thought he was getting from this date she would be sure to modify any misunderstandings, with whatever hexes she deemed appropriate. Apprentice or not, he would not be taking advantage of her.

"Yes, he was asking me for advice about Christmas gifts," McGonagall said answering her question. So, he was asking for advice. He was buying her a gift. How very interesting…and oddly touching. She had assumed that the Potions Master either didn't have a heart or the one that he had was very small.

"What did you tell him?" she asked eagerly.

"Now I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise," Minerva clucked. Hermione frowned. How was she supposed to invent an appropriate response if she didn't know what to expect?

Professor McGonagall patted her on the arm and smiled at her.

"I must admit I was surprised to hear you had a date with Severus, but the more I think on it, the more I am convinced you are well-suited for each other," she told Hermione.

"I hope you're not implying that I am mean, sarcastic, and anti-social," she replied. McGonagall just chuckled.

"Of course not, dear. I just mean you are interested in the same things and you are one of the few people I know who is forceful enough to handle him when he's being mean, sarcastic, and anti-social as you put it."

"Well, thank you for your help," she told the older woman despite the fact that she felt she had been no help whatsoever. If anything what she had told her had only complicated matters. He hadn't asked her to dinner because he felt obligated; he truly perceived this as a real date of sorts.

"Don't think of it, my dear girl. And good luck!" Hermione grimaced at that.

'Good luck indeed,' she scoffed.

TBC


	4. The Date

**Chapter Four**—**The Date**

It was frightening how fast Thursday arrived, but that was often the case with dreaded events. The more you wished the day to stay away the faster it came, Hermione concluded.

She stood in front of her closet, trying to decide what to wear. She couldn't wear her every day school robes; Merlin's was too nice a restaurant. But neither did she want to wear her nicest and best robes; she didn't want to give Snape any ideas. She finally decided on a set of royal blue robes with a modest matching dress underneath. It wasn't her best but with her hair swept back in a French twist and matching earrings she looked quite nice.

Checking her watch, she quickly grabbed her cloak and hurried downstairs to meet Snape. Or was it Severus? She wasn't really sure what she would be expected to call him tonight. Perhaps she would just avoid the name thing altogether and only speak to him when she had established eye contact. Or there was always 'hey you!'

She found him waiting in the castle entryway looking impatient and surprised to see her. Did he think she wasn't going to show up? Suddenly she felt a little sorry for him. She had given him this gift certificate in the first place because she thought he might not get too many Christmas presents; that he might not have many people to invite along to dinner logically followed. She resolved to be cordial, if not friendly on this date. Well, as long as he was, she amended. After all she had to deal with his disparaging remarks and cutting comments during the week—outside of class was another matter altogether.

"You look…nice," he told her, clearly uncomfortable. Gone was the Snape that so confidently conducted classes, subjecting his students to an hour reign of terror. He had been replaced with the insecure and shy man before her. She smiled demurely at him and took the arm that he offered.

He was wearing the same black that he always wore. Just once she liked to see him wearing some color. Maybe blue or green? She tried picturing him in pink and the subsequent image was enough to make her chuckle out loud. He looked over at her confused.

"I was just thinking of a joke Professor McGonagall told me," she lied quickly. She didn't think he would find it funny to know she had been wondering what he would like in a pink leisure suit.

"Oh really?" he asked expectantly. Hermione panicked. Shoot! He wanted to hear a joke now. She never was very good at telling jokes.

"Ummm right. What do you call cheese that isn't yours?"

He stared at her.

"Nacho cheese! Get it? Not your cheese, nacho cheese."

Apparently he didn't get it.

"Right, well then…" she said, trailing off. This date was off to a fantastic start, she thought. She had already managed to make herself look like a fool and they hadn't even made it to the restaurant yet. She hoped it would get better, or if nothing else that the food was worth the trouble.

&&&&

Severus wished he didn't feel so nervous. It was after all just dinner. He waited for her in the entryway, rubbing his sweaty palms on the sleeves of his robes. For the third time he checked to make sure he had everything…wand, check; Merlin's certificate, check; Hermione's gift, check. It seemed everything was still in order.

Looking up, he watched as she came down the steps. She was wearing robes the same shade of blue as his favorite headache potion. It suited her, emphasizing her large brown eyes. Suddenly realizing he should say something, he stammered a generic compliment and then offered her his arm.

She had pitifully attempted humor on the walk down from the castle to the gate, most likely in an effort to diffuse the awkward tension that was building between them. He reminded himself to stick to serious topics at dinner; he didn't think he could handle too many more of her 'jokes.'

Once at the restaurant, however, things improved somewhat, helped along by the bottle of wine he ordered when they first arrived. They talked about Potions, past and present students, before moving on to his colleagues. The wine had loosened his tongue at that point and he treated her to his opinion on almost every professor.

"The smartest thing you ever did was to walk out of Trelawney's class. Unfortunately some of us aren't as able to avoid her presence," he told her.

"Is that so?" she asked, prompting him to continue. He decided he liked that about her. She had smiled and nodded in all the right places tonight. Her questions were easy segue ways to the next topic or encouragements for him to go on, not at all like the irritating inquiries she subjected him to in class.

"Last week at dinner instead of asking me to pass her the mashed potatoes, she assured Minerva that her Inner Eye had foreseen me passing them to her," he said derisively.

"Did you? Pass them to her I mean?"

"Well I started to but then decided it would be more fun to drop them instead."

"Which I'm sure she predicted as well," she said sarcastically.

"That much was inevitable, but it was worth it to see her saying it with bits of mashed potato on her cheeks and nose."

She chuckled and he decided that he liked the sound. He couldn't remember the last time he had made a woman laugh; he didn't count the times they had laughed at him.

Giving her the gift he had bought, he noted with pleasure at how she had oohed and aahed over it. Though he didn't think Hermione Granger had ever encountered a book that she hadn't liked.

'Yes,' he thought, 'this night is progressing well.' Not once had he been tempted to hex or strangle her, although he did have to restrain himself from making caustic comments at some of the things she had said. Old habits die hard after all.

TBC

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! Keep 'em coming.

June: I mention that Hermione doesn't often overindulge in alcohol so she wouldn't have one prepared beforehand and she would feel too sick and possibly too embarrassed to ask for one. And who's to say that one might work; we don't know for sure what those wily Weasleys put in that eggnog. Thanks for the review!


	5. Goodnight

**Chapter Five—Goodnight**

Hermione was surprised to discover that Professor Snape was quite the conversationalist. Although his favorite topic was complaining, his caustic wit, when not aimed at her, could be rather humorous.

And the book he had bought her for Christmas was one she had been eyeing at Flourish and Blott's for several weeks now. She wondered how he had known; Professor McGonagall must have given him pretty good advice.

The conversation flowed smoothly even as they walked back to Hogwarts.

"So the pictures move, telling a story?" he asked.

"Yup, it's called TV," she said. He seemed interested in the muggle technology she had been describing.

"Why not just read a book?" he asked derisively.

"I usually do," she reassured him, "but remember that muggle books don't have moving illustrations like wizard books do."

"Ah yes, well here we are," he said almost sadly, Hermione noted as they reached the front hallway of the castle. His rooms were down and to the left while hers were up the stairs and to the right. She too was a little disappointed that the evening was coming to an end. And then fear struck her. Would he want to kiss her? Did she want him to kiss her? These were questions that would want answering in mere moments.

"Well, ummm, tonight was nice," she stammered. Why suddenly couldn't she put together a proper sentence? It wasn't like this was a real date, this was Snape after all.

"Yes, thank you for the thoughtful Christmas present," he said. At least he seemed nervous as well; it made Hermione feel a little better—but only a little.

"Thank you for inviting me along and for the book. I can't wait to read it."

"I'm glad you like it."

They stood there in awkward silence for a few moments more until it was more than Hermione could bear.

"I…" she started but just as she opened her mouth to speak so too did Snape.

"Well…"

"Sorry, go ahead," she offered.

"I…I just thought…well there is a lecture on the properties of nightshade and its use in Potions next Wednesday and I thought you might be interested. We could grab dinner before or after…on me this time," he said very quickly. She had seen the posters advertising the lecture and had been planning on attending, but with Snape?

"That sounds wonderful," she heard herself saying before she had time to think through the consequences.

"Good, well then….goodnight," he stammered before finally turning quicklyand starting down the stairs to the dungeons.

Hermione stared after him in shock at what had just happened. Dinner tonight hadn't been too bad but was this what she wanted, to start a relationship with Professor Snape outside of class? He was mean, sarcastic, and cruel. She couldn't count how many times he had belittled her or her friends in the past. And besides that he was her professor. She was his apprentice. Any sort of personal relationship might damage their professional one—or more to the point, her professional one. People might assume things.

Well she had already said yes; she couldn't take it back now. Maybe she would come down with a deadly illness before then and be unable to go…but then that would mean she would miss the lecture as well.

'No,' she thought, 'I'll go, but I'll be prepared to say no if he asks again.' And with that she turned and headed upstairs for bed, chuckling to herself at some of the funnier tales about the staff members he had regaled her with.

&&&&

Severus kicked himself mentally as he headed to his rooms. What had he been thinking asking her to dinner again? He certainly hadn't been planning that when he had opened his mouth, but there it was all the same. What she must think of him—a man twice her age and her professor asking her to dinner.

'I don't even like her,' he reminded himself, 'She is loud, obnoxious, bossy, irritating and she has horrible taste in friends.' There would be no more dinners he decided, not after Wednesday night. And he would treat her no differently in the lab or in their tutorials. She would soon learn that there would be no easy way through this apprenticeship; she would work hard and long despite the fact that they might have a personal relationship.

Gah! They would not be having a personal relationship, he reminded himself and just to make himself feel better he began thinking of all the arduous tasks he would require of her in the coming week. He had some particularly boring and simple potions to make for Madame Pomfrey that she could do and then there was always reorganizing the supply closet. With those thought in his mind he readied for bed, although as he drifted off to sleep he couldn't help but think about her wide smile and musical laughter at his stories.

Their next meeting he proved true to his word. He treated her no differently than he had before. He ignored her indignant look as he explained that she would be reorganizing and taking inventory of the supply closet.

"But it's the middle of the year," she protested.

"You will do as I say," he said coolly, hiding a look of satisfaction as she understood the underlying meaning of that statement. Though the way she was glaring at him was mildly unsettling. He hoped she was over her little fit of temper by Wednesday; otherwise he would not be enjoying their meal. And neither would she if he hexed her. Perhaps he could come down with a debilitating disease midway through the week or be overcome with exams to mark…but that would mean missing the lecture.

'No,' he thought, 'If I can endure the Cruciatus at the hands of the Dark Lord, or Harry Potter for seven long years then I can handle Hermione Granger for one more night.'

TBC


	6. Potion Brewing

**Chapter Six—Potion Brewing**

Hermione had just begun thinking that a relationship with Snape might not be so bad after all. He was entertaining, intelligent, and though he wasn't handsome he had some redeemable qualities—that silky voice for one. She wondered what it might sound to have him say her name without the usual sneer attached to it. That is until she showed up to class the next week and heard what he had planned for her. Inventory in the middle of the year! She knew he was only trying to assert his authority, to assure her that just because they had had dinner did not mean things had changed in regards to her apprenticeship but really, the man tended to go overboard.

As she sat counting bottles of potions ingredients, she wished she would never hear him say her name again, ever. She could have a job at the Ministry or be working for Fred and George doing research. But instead she was stuck conducting a mid-year inventory for a man so vile she had run out of names with which to describe him.

Potions weren't her only interest. Surely she could have an apprenticeship just as easily in Transfiguration or Arithmancy. But there had always been something about Potions that had challenged her. Or maybe it was just Snape. He was the only one who criticized her essays or took off points for the slightest mistakes; he demanded perfection from her.

Well screw perfection, her back hurt!

She was just finishing when he came up behind her.

"Here, have some tea," he grunted, placing a cup on the work table. She stared at him in surprise. Common courtesy was not something she expected from him, let alone the forethought to offer her some tea after six hours of nothing but counting ingredient bottles.

"Thank you," she replied, taking the cup. But if he thought that some tea was going to pacify her then he had another thing coming; although it did help some. Sipping the hot liquid, she wondered what dinner and a lecture would warrant for her next week. Grading first year exams? Scrubbing cauldrons? Was it even worth going if she was to be subjected to more of his positioning?

Finishing her tea, she straightened the last few bottles and then gathered up her stuff to go.

"I'll need you to stay late tomorrow night," he told her as she put her hand on the doorknob. She whipped back around, her eyes flashing with anger. It was one thing to have her inventory the supply closet but to make her stay late! She had gotten the bloody message and she fully intended to make sure that he understood.

"Really, sir…"

"I'll need your help making the Wolfsbane potion. It's almost the full moon. You wouldn't want your _friend_ to be without it, would you?" he sneered, interrupting her before she could properly start her tirade.

She stood there mouth open, unsure of what to say. She didn't like the way he had referred to Remus but she was too excited about helping him brew the potion to really notice. Before now he hadn't let her brew any of the more difficult potions, especially not the Wolfsbane. "You must crawl before you walk, Miss Granger," he had told her snidely her first week.

"Yes…of course," she managed to stammer, "Goodnight then Professor."

&&&

He wasn't sure why he said it. He hadn't been planning on it, but recently it seemed that his mouth had a mind of its own when it came to Miss Granger. Not that she wasn't qualified to help him with the potion, she certainly was, but he didn't want her to know that.

He pictured her standing next to him as they brewed the Wolfsbane. She would undoubtedly be curious and pushing her way closer to get a better view. Perhaps their hands would brush as they added ingredients or maybe he would stand behind her, smelling her hair.

What was he doing, he thought suddenly. It was one thing to escort her to dinner, casually chat about potions and colleagues but now he was daydreaming about her?!? He needed a large glass of firewhiskey and soon.

He quickly learned that some fantasies are just that—fantasies.

"What are you doing, you damn girl?" he snapped the next night as she went to put the next ingredient into the cauldron.

"I'm adding the snapdragon root, _sir_," she retorted, obviously wanting to call him by a different name.

"Not now! It's supposed to be added after six minutes not after four. If you put it in now you will ruin it," he said, using his most vicious sneer, "Can't you read?"

"Maybe if you're handwriting was better, it wouldn't be a problem," she said vehemently, taking back the snapdragon and placing it on the table. He glared at her. This was not how he had envisioned this night. But then he supposed he had been foolish to think that spending an evening in a damp and dark dungeon brewing a difficult potion would be an opportunity for romance, and especially with someone like Miss Granger.

Hours later they finally finished the potion. Somehow, beyond all reason, both Severus and Hermione were able to maintain all four limbs and Lupin would have his Wolfsbane. Though by the end of the night neither one was talking to the other except for the few times it was absolutely necessary.

Well this should make for interesting dinner tomorrow, he thought to himself as he poured a large glass of firewhiskey for the second night in a row. He considered taking her to another nice restaurant just because the thought of eating a less than excellent meal with a sulky and irritable Granger didn't seem worth the effort. But neither was he sure he wanted to reward or encourage her impertinence.

Draining his glass and staring into the fire, he remembered why he had avoided dating in the past—it was much too complicated. At least there was the lecture. Hopefully it would be interesting, but if nothing else he could count on at least an hour without having to listen to her talking. Or if they continued in tonight's fashion it would be an hour without exchanging deadly glares.

A/N: I hope to finish this by Christmas, as it is a Christmas story but I can't make any promises. I have the ending written but there are at least two more chapters before we get there and I leave at the end of this week to travel around a bit. I'm taking the laptop with me but I can't be sure of internet access…but I'll try. Joyeaux Noel, Feliz Navidad, and Merry Christmas!


	7. The Lecture

A/N: I know it's after Christmas but just look on it as a way to prolong the season or perhaps lift you from that post-holiday gloom you undoubtedly fell into upon returning to work. And don't forget to review! It would be a nice post-Christmas gift to me. As always J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

**Chapter Seven—The Lecture**

Hermione had looked forward to brewing the Wolfsbane with Professor Snape. It was a difficult potion and she was anxious to prove her skill in Potions to him. She might not have been so excited if she had known that she was going to be snapped at every ten seconds until he finally decided that she was good for nothing but cutting ingredients, and even then he had berated her on the thickness of several things. Really, the man was impossible. She couldn't read his handwriting, and how was she supposed to learn when he wouldn't teach her? He just expected that she should know everything. She was not, as he said, a know-it-all, although she did have an insatiable curiosity.

After having spent more time with the man than absolutely necessary in the last two days, she was not looking forward to dinner on Wednesday. She could only hope that the lecture would prove worth the trouble. At least after tomorrow night she wouldn't be obliged to see him outside of her apprenticeship; it was a comfort, albeit small.

Against all logic however, the next night found her carefully preparing for her date.

'Why am I so nervous?' she wondered for the umpteenth time. This was, after all, just dinner with Snape. She didn't have to worry about wondering if he liked her or not; she knew he didn't. Or if he was going to ask her out again; she was saying no even if he did.

So why did she care how she looked? For that matter, why did she care what he thought? Upon reflection she realized that she did care, quite a lot actually, about what he thought of her. She always had, and not even the events earlier in the week would change that. If seven years of mistreatment hadn't convinced her to avoid the man it seemed nothing would.

With this new kernel of information she put on some lavender robes and applied some makeup. Although after ten minutes of fighting with her hair, she gave up and just let it hang loose around her shoulders. With one last quick look in the mirror, she grabbed her cloak and headed downstairs to meet Snape.

She found him like before waiting for her in the entryway, looking nervous.

"Ready to go then?" she asked, smiling. He looked at her in disbelief. Apparently he thought that because they had fought the night before that she either wouldn't come or would be sulky the entire time. Well just because he was an ill-tempered man who held grudges until the end of eternity, (his hatred of Harry because of what James had done to him sprung to mind,) did not mean she was the same. She would not stoop to his level. If anything it could be fun to throw him balance by being overly nice. Yes, she thought, that's what I will do—kill him with kindness.

She smiled at him and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm.

&&&&

Severus did not like the look Miss Granger. Well, that wasn't entirely true, the lavender robes she was wearing were quite lovely and he liked the way her unruly curls cascaded over her shoulders. Normally she wore it pulled back when she was in class and he could easily imagine what it might be like to tangle his hands in her hair, a little too easily actually.

No, it was the smile that disturbed him. He had seen her smile before, but this had a mischievous look to it and he worried about what she had planned for this night. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so harsh with her the night before when brewing the Wolfsbane. She was a powerful witch after all, her excellent school record as well as the string of cursed and hexed death eaters during the war attested to that. He felt in his robes for his wand just to be safe, as she took his arm and led him down the path to the gates.

The lecture itself proved to be quite uninteresting in his view. The speaker had nothing new to offer and only repeated what Severus had been reading in the Potions journals for the last several years. He said as much to Hermione, leaning over and whispering quietly in her ear, "It appears he spent more time in choosing his dress robes tonight than he did researching this topic."

She smiled slightly at him but turned her attention back to the speaker. He was a tall man with blond wavy hair and Severus was reminded of Gilderoy Lockhart. Hermione seemed enraptured by his inane speech and Severus felt an unwanted stab of jealousy. She was on a date with him; she should not be mooning over other men. Unconsciously, he decided to battle for her attention and approval. Leaning over once more he whispered, "You know more about Potions than this peacock!"

There, an insult and a compliment combined, surely she would more impressed with him than with the lecturer. And if nothing else the smell of her hair and the view of her neck had been worth the effort. In response she leaned over and took his hand, digging her fingernails painfully into his flesh.

"You're disturbing those of us who are trying to listen," she hissed.

He tried not to yelp in pain nor did he show his surprise when she didn't let go of his hand but held onto it. He looked over at her, trying to discern her motives. He wished she was facing him, so he could use legilimency. But then maybe it was better that she wasn't. She had been cordial the entire night, downright nice and agreeable actually, well, except for the fingernails. But either way, he didn't want to ruin it by invading her mind, something he was sure that she wouldn't look kindly on. As if sensing that he was looking at her, she turned and smiled before turning her attention once more back to the speaker.

He wanted to spend the evening with this Hermione, not the fiery and irritating Hermione of the previous night. This Hermione smiled at him as if she enjoyed his company. She did not make him want to reach for his wand every ten minutes, testing his self-control. He sat back and relaxed, no longer listening to the speaker but simply enjoying the feel of Hermione's hand in his and the look of intense concentration on her face.

"Do you mind if I go and try and get an autograph?" she asked at the end, her eyes sparkling a little too much at the prospect.

"I'd rather you not," he said brusquely.

A look of anger flashed across her face, but it was quickly masked.

"Of course, you're hungry. We should leave. I can get an autograph some other time," she said.

He could see the disappointment behind her schooled features. Years of spying had taught him to read people and Miss Granger had never been good at hiding her emotions.

'So,' he thought, 'she is trying to throw me off balance by being overly nice. Two can play that game.' But not now, he was not the kind of man to not take advantage of such an opportunity. His stomach growling, he took her hand and led her from the room. He was hungry and he didn't want her anywhere near that peacock of a Potions master if he could help it.


	8. Dinner for Two

**Chapter Eight—Dinner for Two**

Hermione didn't think that the lecturer was that bad, although he did remind her of someone, but she couldn't quite place who it was. She had been truly interested in his speech except that Snape kept leaning over and distracting her. The first time she had kept her head and merely smiled but didn't respond, hoping he would see that she was trying to listen.

But he had persisted. She had almost forgotten her resolve to be nice to him when she grabbed his hand and hissed for him to be quiet, but that had been quickly amended by not letting go, by pretending that that had been her aim all along.

It had worked, at any rate. He had stopped bothering her, although almost instantly she was presented with the problem that she was now distracted by the feel of his hand in hers.

It was a larger hand, with calluses she assumed he had from working with Potions ingredients all the time and he had a nice grip, returning hers not too tight but not limp like a fish either. Feeling his eyes on her, she turned and smiled once more before looking back to the speaker.

Ugh! Couldn't he see that he was making this lecture very hard to enjoy? She couldn't concentrate on what was being said at all! She was just going to have to buy the man's book. Maybe she could even get it signed. She dreamed of one day owning a library full of wonderful books, some of them personally signed by their famous authors.

But at the end Snape insisted that they leave immediately. She didn't see what the big rush was, but eight years of having boys for best friends had taught her that separating them from their food for too long was never a good idea. She tried hard to hide her disappointment. She could always get the book later at Flourish and Blotts, although regrettably without the autograph. At least he was taking her to a nice restaurant. Minerva had told her that Houdini's was quite nice.

They talked about school and his students on the walk from the lecture hall to the restaurant and Hermione was glad when they finally arrived and sat down. Her feet ached from the heels she had decided to wear. She resolved never to wear anything that wasn't completely sensible from now on. With her left foot, she reached over and kicked off her other shoe. She had a bit more trouble getting off the other shoe with her right foot, and she kept brushing up against the leg of the table. But it proved worth the effort.

'Ah,' she thought, 'much better.' But in her concentration to loosen her shoes, she had lost the thread of the conversation. So she was rather surprised when Snape reached across the table and took her hand in his, his thumb lightly caressing the back of her hand.

If she thought holding his hand at the lecture was distracting, it was even more so now. She hoped he didn't expect her to make intelligent conversation with him stroking her fingers like that.

"What were you saying?" she asked a bit abashed.

"Nothing important, just complaining about another near death experience in the lab with my first years. We should talk of nicer things."

Had they added something to the wine? He was acting very strange all of the sudden, almost normal. This felt like a real date—one where you chatted comfortably about the things you had in common, there was some flirting, a little physical contact, and then at the end there was…well, more physical contact. And that was exactly why she had resolved not to start a personal relationship with the Professor. Physical contact could be very distracting. She could hardly concentrate on putting together a proper sentence at the mere touch of his hand on hers, how could she continue as his apprentice if things progressed further?

"Like what?" she asked, too distracted to think of a topic on her own.

He looked at her bewildered for a moment. She realized that maybe he didn't often talk about 'nicer things'—his own fault really in her opinion.

"Books?" he tried. She smiled; that just happened to be her favorite subject.

&&&

Severus had hurried Hermione out of the lecture hall. He not only wanted to get her away from the speaker but he had seen several people that despite the years of being scowled at and directly and indirectly insulted still insisted on speaking to him at these functions. He never ceased to be amazed at these types. Either they had great courage and stamina for his snarls and stares or they were complete imbeciles. Most, he figured were both.

The only person who weathered his temper that he had any respect for was Albus, although when he thought about it Hermione had put up with him for seven years of Potions classes, and yet she had signed on to become his apprentice. Moreover, she was here on a date with him—of her own free will.

At least he thought she was. He quickly checked for signs of the Imperius. No, her eyes shone brightly and though you would never call her graceful, there was none of the jerky movements that characterized the curse. As they walked to the restaurant, he marveled at the fact that she would decide to spend the evening with him.

He had decided earlier in the evening to take her to a new restaurant in London called Houdini's that he had overheard Minerva raving about to Flitwick. It wasn't as pricey as Merlin's, which was good since he was actually paying this time, but it was nicer and he hoped Hermione would be impressed.

Sitting down at their table, he ordered them a bottle of wine and then began telling her an amusing story about an explosion in the Potions lab earlier that day. She seemed to be listening intently at first but then he noticed that her eyes had glazed over in the same fashion that most of his students did. He had learned to recognize that look of feigned attention early on as a teacher, it was reason he believed he was still alive to this day.

"I was so frustrated, I took out my wand right there and cast the Cruciatus. Mr. Garner won't make that mistake twice," he said testing her.

"Mmmhmmm," she murmured and smiled at him. So she could listen to a Lockhart wannabe for over an hour but she couldn't manage to pay attention to what he was saying for five minutes? He was preparing to treat her to some of his scathing wit when he felt something on his leg.

'That's her foot,' he realized in a panic. She was rubbing her foot up and down his leg. First, she had held his hand at the lecture and now at dinner she was playing footsie with him under the table. He thought she had just been trying to throw him off balance by being nice, but perhaps she was trying to seduce him.

He almost kicked her off and snapped at her, but he stopped himself. Hadn't he made himself perfectly clear earlier in the week when he had ordered her to inventory the supply closet? Certainly she didn't think she was going to get anything from him in this seduction. But as long as she didn't mind scrubbing cauldrons tomorrow, he wouldn't mind allowing himself to be seduced.

With this in mind he reached over and took her hand in his. The rest of dinner passed in an agreeable fashion and Severus was even a little disappointed to relinquish Hermione's hand, but he found himself unable to eat his food with only one hand.

With the previous night and the lecture forgotten, he decided that this whole dating thing wasn't so bad after all, or perhaps it was Hermione that wasn't all that bad.

TBC

A/N: The internet at schoolhas been on the fritz so I'm afraid timely updates may be a thing of the past. I'll try my best though! Don't forget to review.


	9. Under the Mistletoe

**Chapter Nine—Under the Mistletoe**

Dinner had been more than enjoyable in Hermione's opinion. The food had been good, the conversation engaging, and Snape had been almost charming. He had even insisted on her calling him Severus, but only outside of Hogwart's, he warned.

Now as they walked back to the castle from the front gates, she desperately began to formulate ideas on how to extend the evening. She concentrated on trying to remember what the heroines in the many romance novels she had read had done. In truth, she didn't like to admit that she even read the things, but a girl couldn't be expected to read textbooks all the time. She was glad she had now though; she was going to need all the help she could get.

She thought about inviting him up to her rooms for a nightcap or coffee, but decided that held too much connotation for only a second date. But after holding his hand all evening and relishing the feel of his arm wrapped around her shoulder on the walk through the snow, she plotted ways to get him to kiss her.

"…don't you think?" she heard him ask, interrupting thoughts of possibly tripping and 'accidentally' falling into his lips. Once again, she hadn't been paying attention; too busy trying to think of ways to continue the date and she had neglected enjoying it.

"I don't know, maybe?" she answered hesitantly, deciding it would be better to listen than to plot from now on.

"You're too nice," he said. She sighed softly, relieved that her response had made sense.

"Maybe you're too mean," she retorted. She really had no idea what they were discussing but she felt certain that whatever it was he was being too severe. He snorted in derision and Hermione felt a rush of relief to see that they had reached the doors of the castle, if just for the opportunity to change the topic.

"I suppose we should go inside," he said, releasing his grip on her. Did he sound reluctant? Maybe this was her opportunity! She decided to go for it.

"I would rather take a walk. It's a beautiful night with the moon shining on the lake, don't you think?" she asked, lowering her voice to add what she hoped was a somewhat seductive effect.

"Are you sure you feel alright, you don't sound so good," he remarked, regarding her seriously. Shoot! Her one attempt at romance and seduction like she had read in her books and now he thought she had a cold.

"No, I'm fine," she said reverting back to her normal voice. He stood there looking at her oddly, so she took his hand in hers and pulled him away from the door and towards the path around the lake.

"As you wish," he relented. She smiled back at him. He didn't seem the type to take romantic moonlit strolls through the grounds but if he gave in to this request perhaps he would acquiesce to more in the future. Maybe that pink leisure suit wasn't totally out of the question. The thought brought an evil grin to her face.

"What are you grinning about?" he asked her suspiciously.

"I was just thinking about what a wonderful time I was having," she lied, "I never realized how enjoyable time spent in your company could be, it's different in the classroom."

"As it should be," he said defensively.

"Of course, of course," she said quickly. This was not the time to get into an argument over his abysmal teaching methods. If you could even call what he did teaching; it was more like barking orders and then some more yelling when the student inevitably failed. They walked in silence for awhile, finally coming to a stop on a small hill with a view of the lake and the castle.

"The castle is beautiful from here isn't it?" she asked

"I can think of more beautiful things," he said softly. She held her breath, knowing his eyes were fixed on her. What did he mean by that?

"Such as?" she breathed after a few moments of suspense. He paused, licking his lips.

&&&

Severus was sorely disappointed to see the date end. Dinner had been nice, and with his hand in hers he wasn't tempted to reach for his wand when she said something inane. He had even refrained from being sarcastic, well, as much as was possible for him. However, it seemed that his mouth had stopped taking orders from his brain when it came to Hermione. Wasn't that how he had ended up on this second date in the first place, with him asking before he could stop himself? And then when his brain screamed at him to make a caustic comment, to humiliate her as they sat there eating dinner or as they walked back to Hogwart's, his mouth had refused and he found himself saying what he thought might be considered 'soft.' He hoped none of his reformed death eater friends had seen them together. He didn't want to lose what little reputation he had left.

But there was something else he wanted to do with his mouth right now, and he hoped he could get both his brain and lips into action. They stopped at the front steps and he relinquished his hold on her shoulder.

'This is it,' he thought, "I have to make my move now.' But just as he made the decision to kiss her, she spoke again.

"…don't you think?" she asked. He had been too busy staring at her mouth and summoning the courage to kiss her that he had neglected listening. She sounded different however, as though sometime in the last five minutes she had developed a cold. He still wanted that kiss but now he faced the dilemma of balancing his desire to kiss Hermione with his wish to avoid illness. If people thought he was scary on a daily basis then they had never seen him with a runny nose, a cough, and a temper so caustic it could eat through metal.

Against all reason he let her drag him along the narrow path beside the lake. Salazar's socks it was cold! He might get a cold whether he kissed her not! Why on earth she wanted to come out here, he didn't know, but she had that mischievous grin on her face again.

They walked in silence for several moments before she finally decided they had gone far enough. He quickly cast a warming charm, but he had never been very good at foolish wand waving unless you counted the many Dark spells he had learned for dueling. Still shivering, he stood and watched as Hermione smiled and pointed to the castle.

"I can think of more beautiful things," he said in answer to her question—her smile for one. He decided that he definitely enjoyed the slight turn of her mouth and the way the skin around her eyes crinkled and he wanted to do more to encourage it. He didn't think having her scrub cauldrons tomorrow would induce more smiles or soft touches from her.

And that was just it wasn't it? He had promised himself that this was to be their last date, that there would be no relationship between them outside of the classroom. He was the teacher and she was the apprentice and anything else would jeopardize that balance.

But then she looked at him like that, all flushed and full of expectation and what was he supposed to do. He didn't want to disappoint the poor girl, and let's face it more people than not believed him to be unprincipled and dishonest. Why not just kiss her?

He paused and licked his lips. She fluttered in anticipation.

"My fire for one thing," he heard himself say harshly. "It's freezing out here!"

She stepped back and nodded.

"Yes, we should get inside," she said, her voice suddenly falsely cheerful.

She didn't hold his hand on the way back and he missed the warmth of it in his, but it was not something he would let himself admit. He kicked himself for what he had been about to do. Kissing Hermione! He'd rather kiss a mandrake, he told himself forcefully, but he had a hard time believing it.

And then other thoughts began to creep in. Maybe he could convince her that she would be better in another subject. Surely Minerva would take her on as her apprentice. He would have a hard time of it though; he might have to resort to insidious insults and sarcasm regarding her potions in order to convince her. Looking over at her again, he decided he could definitely make the sacrifice and fail her next attempts in class if it meant that he was free of her…free to have her.

Escorting her inside, only thoughts of possibly kissing her in the future quelled his intense disappointment that the date had come to a less than satisfactory end.

&&&&&

This was it, Hermione thought, there would be no more dinners, or lectures, or walks in the moonlight after tonight. She would return to being Miss Granger and he would become once again Professor Snape

'This is silly,' Hermione thought, 'It's only been two dates.' But she oddly felt herself feeling saddened that they would not be continuing their personal relationship. Actually when she thought about it, she preferred their personal relationship to their professional one. She liked having dinner with him. She didn't like being yelled at because his handwriting was bad or because she was too curious.

"Well, then I guess I'll see you in class," she said.

"Yes of course." Did he look sad also? She couldn't tell but she imagined that he did. She had just learned that he felt emotions like other human beings so it wasn't so odd now to think that he might be disappointed as well.

"Ms. Granger and Severus, how good to see you," Professor Dumbledore said cheerfully as he came round the corner. Hermione thought she saw Snape redden a bit at being caught coming home from a date with her and she was torn between feeling insulted or finding it sweet.

"We were just returning from a Potions lecture," Snape assured the headmaster.

"Of course, of course," he said, "I'm just glad to see you out and about. You spend too much time in those dungeons in my opinion my dear boy."

"You know what I think about your opinion old man," Snape snapped. Hermione bit back a giggle. His caustic comments only thinly shielded the obvious affection he had for the headmaster.

"Well, well," Dumbledore said, ignoring Snape's previous remark, "look where you two are standing." He pointed above them. It appeared they had stopped directly under some mistletoe. What in Merlin's name they had been thinking hanging mistletoe in a castle full of crazy hormone-driven teenagers, Hermione didn't know, but it appeared they were to be its next victims.

"I'll leave you to it then," he said with a twinkle in his eye. They watched as he sauntered off, humming "Joy to the World."

"He'll never know," Snape offered, looking petrified at the thought of kissing her.

"Not bloody likely," she retorted a little offended that the idea so repulsed him; she had been so sure that he had wanted to kiss her by the lake.

"You're right, he probably has it charmed so that we can't move until we do," he explained.

"Well, then…"

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. She turned her head slightly to meet his lips full on. Before she knew what was happening he had one hand tangled in her hair at the back of her neck and the other at her back, pulling her closer. She rested her hands flat against his chest as the kiss deepened, first as he took her bottom lip between his and then as she teased him with her tongue.

He was quite the kisser she decided, all thoughts of ending this relationship banished to the back of her mind. It might be worth it to let it continue despite the unequal relationship of apprentice and master. Or there was always Arithmancy or Transfiguration, she was certain McGonagall or Vector might take her on as an apprentice. And who knew, it might be fun to work for the Weasley twins after all.

A/N: Thanks for reading and please leave a review before heading over to the sequel, Cupid's Arrow.


End file.
